Gentle Giant
by Gatekat
Summary: G1. Ratchet/Skyfire. So what can cause Thundercracker to call retreat while Megatron and Starscream are still on line, and will the Ark survive it?


**Fandom:** Transformers G1  
**Author:** gatekat  
**Pairing:** Skyfire/Ratchet  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Codes:** Violence, Slash, Mechpreg  
**Summary:** So what can cause Thundercracker to call retreat while Megatron and Starscream are still on line, and will the Ark survive it?  
**Notes:** klik = 1 minute; joor = 1.2 hours; orn = day/32 joor; metacycle = 6 (5.9285) years; vorn = 83 years/14 metacycles  
Many thanks to femme4jack for the beta. She's also agreed to help me expand the smut  
Written for a tf-secret-santa . for wooden-flashlight .

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Gentle Giant

* * *

The battle was a rough one; the Decepticons were determined to hold their position around the hydroelectric plant and doing a good job. Ratchet was scrambling one mech to the next doing field repairs and marking who needed to be picked up for immediate transport to the Ark. It was chaotic enough that no one on the ground saw who managed to land a shot, shattering Ratchet's shoulder near his backstrut.

It took the sturdy medic down, dropping him to his knees as pain and warnings flashed across his HUD and sensor net. By the time anyone managed to react he'd gotten back up, made a partial transformation to immobilize the useless limb, sent internal commands to seal off the energon, fluid and other damaged lines, and blocked pain receptors to anything but new pain from critical damage.

He'd stop Smokescreen from bleeding out, then he'd fix his arm, then on to the next mech ... no, the next Autobot ... who went down. He didn't even pay attention to the hard crash of metal on metal as some mech went down _hard_ under the weight of either Prime or a triple-changer.

"Boss!" a terrified yell made the medic glance over his shoulder to check on what he'd be fixing, only to freeze ... all except his hand, which as on a sort of auto-pilot to save the mech in front of him. Of all the things he anticipated, watching Skyfire - gentle, soft-spoken, pacifist Skyfire - putting his full strength and mass into pounding Soundwave into the dirt was not on the list.

"Seekers! Retreat!" A deep rumble roared over the battlefield, a voice that almost never called it.

"What?" Starscream's expected screech demanded.

"That Aerial's generative!" Thundercracker shot back, already turning tail to escape. "Couldn't you have _warned_ us?"

"Ah Pits," Starscream snarled and followed his trinemate. "Retreat!" he added his authority to the command that was already being followed by nearly everything with wings.

"Told ya the mech likes ya," Smokescreen's weak voice still contained a chuckle despite the static of pain.

"Somebody get the Aerialbots out of the area!" Ratchet's explosive demand was half cut off by Prime.

"They're fine. Wheeljack, make yourself scarce," Prime roared, charging Megatron in an effort to end the battle quickly before things got even worse when the shuttle decided turn his attention to someone else, someone that was by no means guaranteed to be a Decepticon. "You might want to grab your TIC while there's still something left of him."

Instead of meeting Prime's charge, Megatron turned his fusion canon on the white shuttle-former and fired, singeing his wings and distracting him from Soundwave so the badly battered mech could be grabbed and hauled into the air as the rest of the army retreated.

"Have fun with your sociopathic pacifist, Prime," Megatron jeered before flying off just in time to avoid being Skyfire's next target. "Decepticons, return to the Nemesis!"

With his targets gone, the shuttleformer stood to his full height, wings spread wide and high to make him look just that much bigger and more imposing, and cast nearly white optics across the remaining mechs, locking optics with each in an open dare. Even Gears looked away, though it did take getting cuffed on the back of the helm by Ironhide to manage it.

With a satisfied rumble of his engines, Skyfire's wings lowered a couple notches, though he kept them splayed in display as his attention fixed firmly on Ratchet, raking down the medic's back, taking in every scratch and burn as well as the more obvious damage.

"Repairs first," Ratchet growled at the larger mech without looking up as he closed Smokescreen up. "Then your needs."

Skyfire rumbled in disagreement but transformed without orders so the most injured could be transported to the Ark swiftly, along with their CMO.

* * *

For three days, most of the Ark walked on eggshells whenever Skyfire was near, which was mostly in medbay, as he stalked and hovered over Ratchet when the medic was near another mech. Bets were being made as to when Ratchet would work out that Skyfire intended to kindle with him and not have the generative code shut down. More bets were being made as to whether Ratchet would admit he had feeling for the shuttle or if it would go back to the kind of status quo that Prowl and Jazz had maintained for much of the war.

As often as Ratchet snapped at the shuttle, the medic made no effort to eject him. He simply put the scientist to work, at least as much as the generative-influenced mech was capable of while simultaneously keeping one, if not both, optics and his primary sensor suite on said medic.

"All right you," Ratchet finally faced his stalker. He was exhausted, coated in more processed energon and lubricants than visible paint, and wanted nothing more than a cube of ultra high grade and his berth for at least an orn, if not a decacycle. "Let's get that programming settled."

The words brought about a visible, visceral change in the shuttle. The medic watched as wings slid down and relaxed, and optics that had remained combat-bright for days settled close to their default light blue before deepening in color. Skyfire's aggressive stance and scowl, present since the battle, eased to his naturally warm and gentle look.

Large hands came down to stroke Ratchet's shoulders; fingers far too dexterous and sensitive for their size moved down the medic's battered body as Skyfire knelt in front of him.

"Energon, shower, recharge, then we'll deal with my code," the shuttle said softly but firmly, a tone that Ratchet belatedly realized wasn't going to take any backtalk.

He vented deeply. Skyfire made sense. If the mech was willing to cope with his condition for a few more joor, it would go all the better.

"All right," Ratchet nodded wearily. "You get the energon while I start cleaning up."

He knew he should be piecing something together that something was _off_, but his processors refused to do more than note that the discrepancy existed as he watched Skyfire calmly walk out of the medbay. Ratchet gave a sharp shake of his head and walked to the washrack between the medbay and his quarters.

Maybe when he was clean, fueled and recharged it would make more sense.

He barely felt the cleanser begin to fall, pelting his plating and causing the gore of the last two orns to dribble down, then slough off in ribbons to be washed into the drain, swept away to the waste storage tanks be broken down and recycled. When was the last time 'recycled' had been an innocent word to him and not indicative of death and dying? When had he last felt _good_ about being called on? When had it meant life and not death ... dead that he salvaged from with his own hands to save another life that would only come back slagged the next orn to become more parts?

"You're thinking too much," a deep, soft voice washed over Ratchet like a physical caress. Hands followed, turning him around to face a wide expanse of white plating.

Solvent and cleanser washed down Ratchet's back. A full cube of energon was pressed into his numb hands and he drank on reflex. Gentle hands moved along his armor, assisting in cleaning him off, soothing stiff cables, burnt armor, yet it was the strong, encompassing EM field that drew a deep, relieved sound from the medic.

"I thought your generative code was acting up," Ratchet managed to murmur as the shower was turned off and blowers turned on. He held still, unwilling to stop the rare bit of pampering he was receiving.

"It is," Skyfire rumbled deeply, powerful interstellar engines humming in agreement as he rubbed Ratchet dry. "The sire needs to be healthy and strong or the sparklings will be small."

Ratchet hummed in understanding, his processors too foggy from exhaustion and pleasure to fully grasp what the shuttle was _saying_. He made no protest as he was lead into his quarters and to his berth.

* * *

Systems cycled up, slow, reluctant and battered. When his tactile sensors linked up with his processors, Ratchet stiffened.

~Just me,~ a recharge-heavy voice murmured directly into his processors, causing the medic to boot much faster so he could access his last recorded memories, work out just _when_ the other mech had plugged into him and who the pit the other mech was that felt they could recharge with their systems interconnected.

~Skyfire,~ the medic rumbled silently a moment later. ~_Why_ are you logged into me?~

~Why wouldn't I?~ the shuttle responded, honestly confused and showing it across the hardline connection. His arms were around Ratchet, holding the medic sprawled across his broad chest, their sparks nearly in line. ~You're mine.~

Ratchet jerked in the loose grasp, only to have Skyfire tighten his embrace slightly. The medic's words were cut off as he realized he wasn't in his quarters, where he was sure he'd gone into recharge.

~Of course not. It's too small for me there,~ Skyfire nearly purred in his mind, his large hands beginning to stroke the medic's back plating. ~Energon?~ He asked even as he reached over to the berthside stand to retrieve a cube. He helped Ratchet up, though it was only to sit, straddling the larger mech's pelvic girdle, before having the cube pushed into his hands. The trickle of arousal in Skyfire's thoughts was unmistakable now as it briefly flared.

~Skyfire, you're only thinking that because your generative code is active ... though I can't fathom why you want _me_. You're not lacking fliers to choose from...~

~No,~ the big mech interrupted him more firmly that Ratchet thought possible. ~I don't _want_ them, any of them. The code just prompted me to act on feelings already there. It never generates them. It doesn't work like that.~

Ratchet stared down at him over the half empty cube. ~You're telling me you've been interested in me for a while?~

~Yes,~ Skyfire's mind-voice was both hesitant and confident, a match for the large hands now caressing Ratchet's frame. ~Dogfight would be the best choice if I wanted to have the strongest, fastest, most war-worthy sparklings. Silverbolt would be a fine sire too, or the full gestalt, as would Prime. If I didn't care who, I'd have a truly fine turnout if I threw it open. I know half a dozen Decepticon Seekers, all of ours and most of the faster and larger fliers on both sides would vie for the honor. Some things surpass faction, even now. I want _you_.~

~This isn't a time for sparklings, Skyfire,~ he insisted, regret lacing his thoughts as he finished his cube.

~Better raised in war than not raised at all,~ the shuttle insisted. ~The protocols wouldn't kick in unless conditions are favorable.~

~But ... wait, it's not a cycle?~ Ratchet focused on the medical end of things.

Skyfire laughed; an easy, light, highly amused sound. ~Of course not. We're not animals, Ratchet. Conditions have to be favorable, and the population low enough, or I wouldn't want to create like this. Favorable doesn't just mean energon reserves, but everything my processors have access to.~

~But...~

~Ratchet,~ he cut the medic off before he even started. ~I'm not asking you to bond or be exclusive. I'm not even asking you to be with me again or admit the sparklings are yours if you'd rather not. Silverbolt, Perceptor, even Wheeljack would be willing to claim responsibility if I asked them to. Just ... pretend I'm whoever you'd rather be with so I can have them.~

~Skyfire,~ he murmured, his processors in turmoil at what he was being assaulted with.

~Please.~

~Skyfire! Give me a klik, you glitch,~ Ratchet snarled, his engine growling in a deep agreement with his projected thoughts.

With a mute nod Skyfire fell silent, though his interface protocols were fully on line, demanding he act with more force than the shuttle ever had conceived possible. It was a terrible torment, to have the one he wanted straddling his hips, hooked into his systems and remain still. All his gentle nature, scientific training and upbringing of free choice was having a hard time countering the silent demands to take what he was strong enough to claim as his.

~Ratchet,~ his voice was small and shaky as trembling hands moved to the medic's hips, large thumbs rubbing along the seams to his interface panel, noting how warm it was. ~Say yes or _run_. Protocols aren't much on consent.~

Ratchet looked down at the pleading expression, echoed so strongly across the hardline connection, and felt all his objections buckle.

~I don't know if I'll ever be exclusive, but I'm never going to create a sparkling and walk away,~ he murmured and leaned forward to kiss Skyfire. Code exploded across the hardline as the shuttle stopped holding back, rippling across Ratchet's processors in a firestorm of raw lust and desperate _need_.

~Primus!~ the medic exclaimed.

~Yes!~ Skyfire allowed himself to become lost in the pleasure after fighting his base code for so long.

* * *

Grudgingly Ratchet's systems booted, yet the sated sensation of his body and spark allowed him to relax through the processes. He even took the time to review the events of the previous night that lead him to be sprawled on top of Skyfire and feeling so very well used.

A slow, satisfied smile crossed his face as he considered the mech recharging soundly under him.

"Thank you for choosing me," he murmured, giving Skyfire a soft kiss before relaxing to recharge more.

He knew he'd need it. 


End file.
